


Coping

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Unrequited Love, early season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:19:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on what was going on with Fitz and Simmons early in Season 2, right after Jemma returned to the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coping

_She’s back. She’s back._

 

She was sitting in the mess, no more than 30 feet away, and all Fitz could think was she’s back. After months without her, months of wishing she was there to help him clarify his thoughts and maintain his focus in their new lab, Jemma was suddenly here, in the Playground, and he had no idea what to do.

 

So he did what he always did.

 

He tinkered.

 

He worked the projects Coulson put before him, and pretended to direct the scientists that had been assigned under him, although he knew damn well that they all thought he was crazy. He smirked when he realized that considering that up until two days ago he’d been speaking to an imaginary version of the woman who he was pretty sure was the love of his life, they were likely right in their assessment of him.

 

But most importantly, Fitz avoided her, or had for the last 48 hours. After that first awkward greeting, he’d gone back to lab work, carefully avoiding her gaze as he read reports and fiddled with machinery, only looking up when he’d heard her familiar tread retreat out the doors of the lab and over to the conference room for debriefing. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much, seeing her again, but it had, and Fitz found himself wondering just how he was expected to deal with all of this when he felt it.

 

A gentle pressure on his shoulder.

 

“Look,” he said, rolling his shoulder to knock the offending hand away, “I tol’ you, I dinnae need you t’-”

 

Fitz cut himself off when he turned, expecting to confront the wide eyes and long pony tail of his imagination, only to be met with shorn off hair and a pinched, concerned mouth. He felt his own lips press into a hard, firm line as he looked at her.

 

She’d left him. Abandoned him when he’d needed her. All because… because he’d…

 

He shut his eyes tight and wrung his fingers as he tried to put his thoughts in perspective. A memory drifted up, unbidden, of all the incidental little ways she used to touch him: grabbing his shoulder in greeting or encouragement, kissing his cheek after promising that he was her hero, the way she’d wrap her arms about his neck, seeking either comfort or confirmation that he was indeed still alive. A brief, blue memory of her clinging to him and pressing desperate little kisses across his face as he put on a brave face and did his best to reassure her that choosing to live was the best choice she could possibly make.

 

When she’d come back, Jemma hadn’t even managed that with him, all because he’d thought he’d been about to die and wanted her to know why he was so willing to lay down his life for her, and she couldn’t even hug him hello. No, she merely looked at him the way everyone else did. A broken instrument, a defective toy that was simply too expensive to throw away.

 

Suddenly, the anger and bitterness welled up, and the last thing Fitz wanted was any kind of pity from Jemma Simmons. Setting his jaw and forcing an icy tone into his voice, Fitz leveled Jemma with his gaze.

 

“Simmons, I dinnae need you startlin’ me when ‘m workin’. Now, wha’ did you need?”

 

~*~

 

_He’s different. So, so different._

 

Fitz had always been prickly, using sarcasm as a defense mechanism even back at the Academy, back when they had first met. But now, there was a bitterness behind it, and underlying, roiling anger that not only startled Jemma, but scared her. It made him seem unpredictable, and after months in the field, all she wanted was something reliable. Something familiar.

 

She wanted _her_ Fitz.

 

Jemma wanted private jokes and invaded personal space. She wanted him to make her her evening cuppa, even though it was always too sweet for her liking, and to ask her to watch a movie with him once the lab was put back in order. She wanted the quick, gentle touches and shy looks that had told her - long before she’d been willing to admit it to herself - that something was brewing beneath the surface, even if she wasn’t still ready to deal with what he’d told her.

 

Instead, she got a fidgety, fumbling, down right mess of a man. A man who was clearly struggling to return to what he’d been, and made her feel incredibly defensive. She’d caused that. She’d saved his life but destroyed his future, and now when she looked at him, Jemma saw all of that lost potential. They should have had years left together in a lab, solving nearly impossible problems and saving the day with their inventions and creativity but now… now, she wondered what, exactly, was left for Fitz, let alone what could be left for the two of them.

 

Still, Jemma forced herself to try. She had abandoned him once before, even though it had been Coulson who asked that she infiltrate Hydra, and she wouldn’t do so yet again. So, she crept back into the lab, coming near him to ask what he was working on, and doing her best to listen patiently as he stumbled through an explanation, even though it broke her heart.

 

Apparently that showed, however, because he stopped his explanation to turn away and ask, “Can you stop… uh… can you stop lookin’ a’ me--”

 

“Oh, I can’t even look at you now.”

 

The words slipped out unbidden, and she looked down, a bit ashamed of herself. She knew he wasn’t well, was struggling to recover, and guilting him wouldn’t do either of them any good. She she was human. Human and frustrated, and as she listened to him stumble and grasp for words, Jemma was struck by an acute wave of longing.

 

She wanted his wit and sarcasm and easy way in the lab back. Wanted to watch him create amazing things at the drop of a hat and help her save the day at a moment’s notice. But he couldn’t. They couldn’t. They were broken, and she had caused it, and for once, Jemma had no idea how she could fix it.

 

But then he asked the question she’d been dreading.

 

 _Why_?

 

Why had she run? Why hadn’t she answered him? Why had she saved him only to leave?

 

Those answers were simple, yet so difficult to voice. She had run because she’d been scared and uncertain. She hadn’t answered him because she hadn’t known how she felt, still wasn’t sure if her feelings for him were genuine or guilt-induced. She’d saved him because he was a wonder, one of the most magnificently interesting men she’d ever known, and the world deserved to know more of his brilliance, almost as much as he deserved the chance to show it to them. And she’d left because Coulson had asked her to, and she’d been sick of feeling inconsequential and ineffective in helping Fitz. She’d wanted to do something instead of waiting for something to happen.

 

But she couldn’t tell the forlorn man before her that.

 

So instead, she dropped her face, wanting to hide the tears in her eyes, and struggled to find the words.

 

“You know wha’?” His voice broke the silence, startling Jemma and causing the first tear to fall. “Dinnae bother answerin’. ‘M no’ sure i’ really matters anyway.”

  
With that, he turned his back on her once more, focusing on the machine he’d been working on, and leaving her to her tears. 


End file.
